my version of Groundhog Day: 8/28/09

What is it- that feeling you feel when you step off an airplane to a place you haven’t seen for many months and you call home? Arriving home from an extended journey used to be so bittersweet for me and I suppose it still is: Maui No Ka Oi. Translated to Standard American English (SAE) from Hawaiian that’s Maui is the best. Translated from SAE to Hawaiian Creole English that’s Maui stay ono. (ono = delicious). Bittersweet because it is incredible; beautiful shades/textures of sandy beaches, streams, waterfalls, jungles, hiking and… and… beauty every step of the way. I have an incredible career here that keeps me stimulated within the scientific community. Great friends, endless outdoor activity: the intimacy of knowing a place, really knowing a place. Knowing that I can arrive back on isle without a place to live, without my car, without much money, still spaced out from an 11-hour journey by air back in time (6 hours back in time BTW), and just needing to chill out. That’s the sweet part. The so-termed bitter is that I know I need more. I always have. I have always had to travel for extended periods of time. To escape this fantasy island & experience the grittiness of another expression of life- a more common expression for most people. Seasons are so subtle here. Most can’t recognize but my body is tuned in to Maui’s frequency. The sky was light, vibrant blue with huge extremely dazzling white cottonball clouds marching like saints down the SE side of Haleakala’s slope into the sea and across to Kahoolawe Island looming in the distance as a once fading and now renaissance=like symbolic image of the steadfastness of the Hawaiian people stemming back to ancient times. A constant reminder of how things could still be… The sun was low on the horizon even though it was late afternoon. I could just tell, that’s all, that the last days of summer were already set into motion.

My heart sings. Pre-sunrise in the jungle: heavy rain downpours turning into lighter spasms of intermittent showers, the sudden cacophony of birds chirping- I can hear 4 separate songs as I type. My return to Maui has met all expectations indeed. A good friend, who took me under her wing and let me stay at her place until my new shack was available, greeted me at the airport. She drove me around and listened to my ranting about my time in NYC First thing post airport pick-up she carted me off to Baldwin Beach so I could jump in the water and we could walk the most beautiful stretch- well certainly the most meaningful stretch of beach for me as I have gone through so much on this beach. Every emotion possible has been encountered at this beach. My first impression was that summer storm damage eroded the sand away again this year down at the cove. Sighting the trees fallen onto the sand and buried in water since last season and now exposed w/their mossy green brilliance sagging off them as Dali’ clocks/images hung dreamlessly off objects within a Catalan landscape. With the late afternoon sun, the whitecaps on the seas in the distance creeping closer to the shoreline and a graveyard of fallen pine trees tossed along the shoreline like one’s dirty laundry at the foot of the washing machine, a lone fisherman casting his ulus pole from the waters edge, the lifequard on a sunset run for one last check over, Maui life was picturesque in that moment. As we walked the shoreline my toes found themselves strenuously crushing deeper into the sand, down to the moist, cool to touch coarse-grained granules that massaged my feet- who were so exposed to the entirety of NYC this summer and so graciously took me everywhere in those 5 boroughs and now they felt rejoiced, reinvigorated, regenerated.

We spoke of our summer highlights, lowlights, and the typical streamlining down the middle of the road everyday occurrences that carries us all through the largest chunks of our lives. She was on the high of starting a new job with another company- who I had once worked for. I listened & was genuinely happy for her. As well as she stimulated renewed interest in archaeology for myself as well. Now I was looking forward to returning to work come Monday. All those long, arduous hours spent under the sun that threatens to invade any exposed area of your body, all the sand spitting back at you in the dunes when the trades are blowing incessantly, the miles of thorny brush you have to hike through and hack away at w/machetes during surveys as well as all the resulting cuts & bruises- the hours of mapping sites- just all of the bounty that archaeology offers!

I relived NYC stories- all incredible moments experienced. School had empowered me to yet a higher degree. I can’t help it, I am one of ‘those’ people who has always enjoyed what academia can provide if you let it- or ‘get’ it more accurately- not just go through the motions of ‘going to school’ but really get off on the challenge of studying theories, and coming up with your own interpretations, and then can challenge prevailing theories- not to be right or wrong, but to succinctly state & support a hypothesis to be refuted, revised or simply revealed. I do love this regardless of if in school or not, but to just challenge myself continually and see what I can come up with- this drives me.

We both had tales of lost loves and new lovers. She always looking for love, or imagining love more so. Every encounter is an optimistic possibility. Myself, ever the scientist, I look at the picture as a whole and break it down into individual components immediately. So exciting to delve into the mysteries of love/lust through scientific knowledge- this is my high. I am hopeless as I know right off if time is going to be invested- real intimate time. I’ve never been one to ‘date’ casually. The anthropologist in me sees contact as something primal and instinctual & it should just be allowed to develop on its own course with as little interference/words as possible to disrupt the vibration that should be developing & most often drowned out by sounds & words that just add confusion. Of course this means that body language must be meaningful & truthful- not always the case. I watch cats and when meeting a cat for the first time… it either comes up to you or it doesn’t. You meet eyes and lock into each other. It is that initial encounter that explains a lot of how a cat thinks. It doesn’t necessarily need a pet, or want a pet from just anybody. It senses first. If it is a sudden introduction, well I guess I’m saying I’m a bit like this cat.

Ok sidetracked. Maui, like anywhere, has its pros/cons. Right now I am riding the wave high on the crest of the developing wave just before getting tubed. The elusive O. It’s a great state of mind. I’ve seen stars, rainbows, afternoon showers, sunrises, sunsets… I didn’t see any of these things in NYC except rain showers. My body sensed this disharmony & even though it was obscured by all there is offered up to do in that incredible city, by day and into the night, it is these essential elements that make my body sing.

My new shack & myself are introducing ‘ourselves’ to each other. It is like a living entity in that I need to become intimate with all my environments. I am starting to make it ‘mine’. I saw a moonbow last night inbetween squalls. I am looking out into thickets of bamboo and ferns & wild gingers & just too much to individually rattle off but the desired effect has been achieved- my mind is blown. All this lushness- there is a sensual beauty of being a solo witness to the rush of feeling a breeze walk through and reach out and touch your arm so the hairs briefly react to the touch, but there is also pleasure to be had experiencing this w/a lover and I’m thinking that is exactly what’s missing from this scene this fine Thursday morning as I prepare to get up & greet the day…

summer '09 in a New York Minute... red wine observations

almost 1 am

& sitting out on the stoop (wow- not going to be able to say THAT much longer...) observing the nights events: raindewy remnant drops from a quite heavy mist the past few hours, cloudy sky w/lapses giving way to the black noir (still no stars- not 1 this entire summer), a VERY reduced rat population.

Was that due to that really heavy rainfall almost 2 weeks ago? Was it the massive amounts of rat poison & insecticides they must use in this city (I have not seen 1 ant in my flat all summer- or cockroach. Was it due to running around on all that dog piss from these leashed, trained when to urinate dogs that rule the Upper West Side? Hey, it kills the trees. Oh, here, right now a owner & his 2 dogs searching for a tree with a patch of dirt. It's something to do with their claws tap tapping on the pavement that fascinated me all this time I think. As I transport myself into the world of dog- as I would probably view it if I were a dog- I have decided that dogs don't like to walk on pavement. It is such a strange existence for these dogs of NYC. I don't know really.

I'm actually feeling a sense of loss due to the lack of rats. The rats of NYC are very different than the rats of Hawaii. They are equal in size. Do that rats like scavenging the streets (Oh! There is one right now!) or the jungle more? I think in the streets they don't have to worry about other animal predators- just toxins whereas the jungle rats have to worry about animals. I would think jungle food tastes better than city food though.

My New York Minute is just about up. Time is now on the side of the jungle. I can hang in the City- yes indeed I have taken advantage of every possible opportunity to live this City life. It is a parallel universe to my familiar existence in the Pacific.

I adore the subways. Their efficiency is unparalleled- yet it is absolutely necessary to possess an iPhone w/ ALL subway apps and maps. I have mastered the art of figuring out where on the platform to stand to walk the least amount of time in the subways. I have still to master the art of exiting above ground and knowing where north is when the avenues are very far apart and trees & buildings obscure the street #'s, or south of 14th where it all turns into whirled peas. I always complained how hot it was in the stations and how cold it was in the trains. I only got on the wrong train once when I was inebriated- very late at night so a lesson learned well & early on to realize to keep it together in these instances... I tried to always ride on the first or last car so I could watch the tracks. This was always fascinating. I am so fascinated with the network of lights, rails, cables, ambient lighting and how whenever I looked off into the horizon there were little nooks & crannies of history recessed in those walls. Sometimes sporadic sunlight beamed through from the world atop the earth. Sometimes images printed on the walls that reminds me that even, and most especially, ancient man chose to express their feelings as pictographs/grafitti.

I never drove once, or missed driving. I always found it amusing that I rarely see a 4x4 driving in the city- or even a small truck honestly. I have to laugh as I can't live without my 4x4 on Maui- it is necessary requisite behavior there as is a small car is here- if you're going to have a car that is & most choose not to.

I have certainly walked all of Manhattan, & some parts of Brooklyn & less of Staten Island. Oh yea, let's not forget Jersey. I did venture there twice. Queens & the Bronx got a pass this time around but I saw enough of Queens a few years ago while temporary stationed out in Jamaica.

Three months just isn't enough time to delve into all 5 boroughs. After all, that is simply a New York Minute. 90% of my time here was school-focused. The New School was the 'mothership' for me here. Feels so incredible- STILL- to have thrown myself back into academia. It has been extraordinary connecting with the minds I encountered. What I love about the 'family' is that we all have 1 thing in common in this graduate program- our passion for travel & cross-cultural encounters and how to use language, and language learning, as a means for expressing ourselves. Everything about me has changed, become challenged in the most meaningful of ways. Just BEING here was such a challenge; not having access to a prolific ocean full of passion & renewing energy.

Yes, this deficit was channeled into other endeavors. Last night, no 2 nights ago I woke up to that sound again- the sound of a crashing wave, which I still haven't figured out its source but almost positive it is due to a large crater over on Columbus Ave. at the corner of 82nd. Whatever the reason, I adore that sound. It makes me smile to associate this unidentified sound with an identifiable association in my mind.

So back to channeling my energy in alternative NYC realities. I didn't just look at things- I looked into them. I saw things, I made observations & picked apart unfamiliar concepts to get to their core and reason for existence: everything from making one's bicycle appear worthless by painting it white & chipping it in places so it won't get stolen (most had 2 locks, but many had 3- as well as seat locks, etc.) to going to the website that tells everyone where the open bars are for the evening- usually between 5-6pm. One of my favorites NYCisms that I became accustomed to when wanting to slink around in sky high heels was to wear my thin raincoat w/the big pockets (one of my best investments while here as it seemed to always be raining or sprinkling at night) and slip them in while I schlepped about town in the comfort of m

y havaianas. The requisite phrase to Lenys was as follows: "When we get to within 1 block of the club let us know so we can change into our stepping out shoes." I recall he didn't give us enough time while walking up to Therapy. Carolina Ballerina and I unleashed our furies on him for this fau paux...

It's now 1:45 am and the rat never reappeared. I think the entertainment as viewed from the stoop is over for the evening as now I just keep seeing cops in unmarked cars drive by. The sky has changed from cloudy to now just a muted puddle. How dull these skies are if you remove the architectural buildings from consideration. Strange but I can't even say I had a successful run at being a peeping tom- everybody's air conditioners seem to be in the way of proper viewing...

Rooftop BBQ's make things better

My spirits have been lifted & my mood restored. Tonight was such a beautiful reminder, no- slap in the face, that life is incredibly fascinating and that you wake up and you don't know what the day is necessarily going to bring. I had the good fortune to meet up with a whole cast of characters tonight- just people doing their thing in NYC & Phily from all corners of the earth. Together we represented so many countries and ideas and cultural values. It was poetry in motion- as well as poets, filmmakers, artists, and so many more hats that we all wear in life and interchange. It was THE setting for a NYC short story of a cast of seemingly random characters coming together to a function- yet whose lives are all intertwined- some more intricately than others. But the defining line is that this night changed all our lives- even if for a moment in time, it was our moment in time. It was a beautiful experience and those lexical choices cannot even do justice to what I experienced. So many memories of Istanbul flooded my body tonight. Not just Istanbul though but a continuum of travels that culminates in a treasure chest of memories that are instantly activated by a sight, smell, touch, verbalization. I traveled the world tonight through each person and all the collective experiences we brought together. We are animals imprinting our journeys through each others ears, eyes, bodies for self expression. It is a ritual, it is a necessity as cultural creatures for Homo sapiens to figure out ways of expressing ourselves to each other. It is primal. As primal as the nightsky cloaking the sun so we can commune in the darkness as our ancestors did. We must feel the connection- certainly looking into a bonfire long enough evokes these abstract images of states of hypnopompic expressionism- is it real? did I dream it? did I already live this? is this a glimpse into the future? are we all in this moment riding a wave of collective consciousness? This is our connection- make it meaningful, so as to recall the sensation of what made this night so mindblowing. Yes I do believe I got it right once again.